Post-Audition Blues
by BlaineWarbler
Summary: (Episode reaction fic for "Choke.") Kurt tries to hold Rachel together when it seems as if everything in her world is coming apart. But when Rachel discovers why she's really upset about not getting into NYADA, she finds out what she truly feels…is heartbreak. Contains unrequited romantic Hummelberry and cheating. Canon Klaine and Finchel.


Rachel sobbed into her bedspread, face buried in the pink fluffy pillows adorning her bed, while her best friend looked on, helpless. He didn't have any words to make this better. He wished his brother was here, but Finn had been helping _his_ best friend Puck graduate high school and that seemed important, too. Rachel was a survivor, even if she didn't feel like surviving right now from her most recent upset.

Tonight was Kurt's time to Rachel-watch, not wanting her to pull a Britney and shave off all her hair (_or worse_, Kurt thought, _a Quinn and dye her hair pink_). He shivered at the thought of such blatant disregard for fashion before remembering where he was.

Rachel's broken cries were starting to die out, slowly-but-surely, and Kurt leaned over from where he was sitting, cross-legged by her feet, holding a box of tissues, and rubbed her back absently.

He knew Rachel didn't want any words right now, that anything he said he would probably regret saying. If he _hinted_ at the NYADA disappointment or said how fantastic of a performer Rachel really was—not even _mentioning_ the audition—she might be sent into another long sprawl of depression and crying. And she looked so tired and just _cried out _when she pulled back up from the bed and sat next to Kurt, taking a tissue from the box and dabbing her eyes, despite the fact the tears were all over her face.

"You kn-know, Kurt, your performance of 'Not The Boy Next Door' _was_ really incredible." Kurt smiled, trying to keep his expression steady. Being reminded of his stellar performance only put a huge grin on his face. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, afterward, Blaine had been so proud of him and impressed and they ended up having the most mind-blowing sex (but, on second thought, maybe that had more to do with the gold pants).

Kurt shook the thought from his mind as Rachel continued, blowing her nose and then smiling back up at him. "I feel awful, you know. I'm so glad you prepared it as a back-up number. I would have never thought of it. Well, _obviously_…" she said, her mouth quivering again into a frown. Kurt gave a tight-lipped smile, and put his hand behind her, rubbing small circles on her back with his palm. She sighed. "I thought I messed it up for you. I was _such_ an idiot. Of course you could do that song. I don't know _why_ I ever doubted you…I projected my own fears onto your performance, Kurt. So awful…" she said in a small, broken voice. She was blaming herself again.

Kurt put down the box of tissues and took her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Don't do this to yourself, Rachel. You were only looking out for my best interest—I know that. I would have done the same for you. If anything, I should have been _more_ concerned about you and what you were doing, too. I guess I just thought I didn't need to…" the words were out of his mouth before he thought them through. _Wrong thing to say, idiot. Great._

"Well, that makes two of us," she sighed sadly. Kurt wanted to kick himself. _Worst motivational speaker ever._

After a moment, Kurt slapped his knee with the thought of something to cheer Rachel up. The visual cue notified Rachel, too, and she picked her head up in silent question.

"Ice cream. Wine coolers. Twilight."

"Kurt that sounds terrible," Rachel sniffed. "And I think I drowned myself in enough coconut and soy ice cream last night to last me the year."

"Fine, just the vampires and coolers then. Hear me out. We need to take your mind off things for a while and getting hammered and watching a bad movie just might do the trick."

Rachel smiled despite herself. "I don't think I've ever heard you use the word 'hammered' before."

Kurt brightened, hopeful that he was finally getting through to Rachel. "Until yesterday you never heard me say 'I love you Rachel Berry' either."

Rachel blushed a bit at the memory. It was really a very sweet memory to share someday, after Finn and Rachel get married and Blaine and Kurt as well—how Finn was able to put away his insecurities about being bested by Blaine and just be his friend. And now how Rachel and Kurt had come so close to being family, really, the way they had supported each other's dreams so fervently. Enough to admit that they loved each other and cared for each other. Rachel knew it was wonderful to have that kind of support in her life.

But something about that moment soured a bit when Rachel took it home that night and was contemplating her failure to get into the college of her dreams, sobbing into her sheets. Something had felt like a lie—something nice to say when everything had turned out so horribly wrong.

Rachel smiled. "Okay. Coolers and vampires it is." She got up and walked to her desk, reached under and pulled out a six-pack of pink wine coolers. "My dads," she said by way of explanation, walking back to the bed. "They've tried everything to make me feel better. To think it would come to bribing me with alcohol…they must be desperate. I feel so bad for making everyone so _miserable_…"

"Hey, hey," Kurt said, taking Rachel's hand as she sat back down on the bed. "Enough of that. You're not allowed to make yourself feel bad for the rest of the evening." He leaned in, "_or else_," he said, trying to imitate an air of playful menace. But Rachel had smiled and blushed and turned away again, thinking the expression on Kurt's face had been way too silly to have been allowed.

"Okay. _Okay_," she said again. She twisted the top off one of the wine coolers and handed it to Kurt, then twisted a second metal cap off her own bottle, clinking it with Kurt's. "Drink up, boy. Three and three," she said. "Equal distribution of alcohol. That way I don't feel more like an idiot by being drunker than you."

Kurt wanted to laugh. "Rachel, that's not how alcohol works. I'm bigger than you—I'll be tipsy after two but you'll be gone after the first. Remember, I've seen you drunk," he said, leaning his shoulder in to tap against hers with a smile. He took a swig of the alcohol and smacked his lips a few times afterward. "My, that's sickeningly sweet."

"Don't knock my favorite drink, Kurt. It does the trick just the same."

"I'll drink to that," Kurt said, clinking their bottles once again. "Now let's make fun of some terrible acting and atrocious CGI, okay?"

.

.

.

"But I don't understaaaaand," Rachel had wined in a high, loud voice at the television. "Jacob is so nice and sweet and so good to Bella! Why doesn't she love him like she loves Edward?" Her arm was wrapped around Kurt's, they were leaning against Rachel's headboard with the backing of a wall of pillows, slouching down onto the bed—nearly laying down, too tired and woozy to fold their legs and sit up straight after almost finishing the pack of coolers.

"This conversation sounds familiar," Kurt half-mumbled in his inebriated state. "Like when Mercedes was having her secret thing with Sam and when you secretly got yourself engaged to Finn."

Rachel looked at him a moment, and then turned back to the television and sighed. "But Edward always misses things," she whined again, "sometimes he's completely oblivious but they're supposed to be in love and everything is supposed to be perfect. But Jacob's there too and he _never_ pressures her into getting married, just wants whatever she wants, and he's _always_ content to just listen and is super handsome and _never_ forgets that she's a vegan and accidentally tricks her into eating meat on a date."

Kurt chuckled at Rachel's insane drunken ramblings, half-away from reality itself, and nearly half-asleep as well. "She's _vegetarian_, not vegan, Rachel. And Edward never _made_ her eat meat."

But Rachel just snuggled up closer to her best friend, linking both arms around his and leaning into him on her side, her head on his shoulder. "You'll never leave me, will you, Kurt? You'll always be my friend, right? Even when I get all crazy and weird sometimes?" She looked up at him through her thick dark lashes and reminded Kurt briefly of Blaine. Except Rachel's eyes were dark. And they were searching Kurt's face now for an answer.

Kurt had almost forgotten Rachel was "the needy girl" drunk, a term he'd understood from Finn's _Big Book of Observations_. He knew Tina and Mercedes were "happy girl" drunks, Blaine was "silly boy" drunk (and sometimes "flirty boy" drunk, given the right company). Finn just made crazy random plans when he was drunk, proclaiming himself king of this or that, or playing the drums sloppily for hours. Kurt couldn't tell who he was when he was drunk. Even Blaine couldn't tell. Maybe since there were so few occasions to go by.

Kurt smiled and brought his left hand to her cheek and looked down at her, their faces a few inches apart. "I promise," was all he said, and then put his hand down on her small shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly, turning back to watch the movie.

But Rachel kept looking at the other boy and her face flushed an even darker red than it had from the alcohol. She stared at his profile, so distinct and just _so beautiful_. Of course, Rachel always _knew_ that Kurt was a handsome guy. Everyone knew it, even when Kurt didn't. How could he know, when there were so few men willing to tell him and so few girls that would admit to crushing on a gay guy? Of course his girl friends, like Rachel and Mercedes and Tina, told him all the time how charming and handsome he was. But Kurt probably always felt it was too akin to the way girls complimented each other to build their egos and rid themselves of horrible insecurities about their looks, rather than being a genuine thought. He always brushed off their compliments as if they were all just being nice to him.

But they weren't _just being nice_. They were being honest. Kurt was _gorgeous_. He was a gorgeous man, with his fit physique and sweet nose and breathtaking blue eyes, and his lips… if Kurt wasn't gay and Rachel wasn't dating his brother, she just might have a thing for him.

She snuggled closer to Kurt, wiggling one leg over him to settle between his two legs, burying her face between his forearm and chest.

She felt comfortable like this. Safe. Wanted. Her mind raced to think of a way to tell Kurt just how awesome-amazing he really was.

"Kurt your audition was _so_ good, _soooooo good_, Kurt," Rachel had said, her face nuzzled into his shirt but still loud enough to break Kurt away from his reverie and the scene on the screen in front of them.

"Hmm?" he said, tired and nearly asleep, his eyes half-closed, and it sounded like a hum, a throaty little gesture that reverberated through his chest and Rachel sighed into him, and he was so warm and pleasant and smelled _so nice_—_God_, did he just smell this nice all the time or was it gay guys in general because Finn _never_ smells this good—and suddenly the words were there and tripping out of her mouth in a happy daze.

"You looked _soooooo_ good on the stage, the lighting was _perfect_ for that number, and your tear-away suit was _genius_ and those gold pants were _sooooo perfect_ and the way you straddled that piano was_ sooooo sexy_…" she said, her voice trailing away slightly as she picked up her head and felt her heart race as she pressed her parted lips on the side of Kurt's exposed neck where he was turned away from her, having nodded off during Rachel's droning compliments that had sounded like a lullaby in his drunken state.

When her lips touched his neck, it was like a fire had spread through Rachel's entire body. She breathed him in and pulled a hand up to touch his chest. He was warm, too, impossibly warm from the alcohol, maybe. And she pressed her tongue to his neck and was kissing him, she was kissing Kurt, her best friend, her fiance's gay brother, and yet, she wasn't. She couldn't care, all that simply _fell away_ and out of existence, none of it made any _sense_ anymore, she just felt it in her bones, felt that she had to be close to whoever it was holding her so securely and so effortlessly and so sweetly and— _God_, his neck tasted _wonderful_ and she didn't ever want it to stop.

She barely registered that the movie had ended and cut to the black and white credits and that it had thrown the already dark room even deeper into the shadows when Kurt moaned throatily, and his voice was so much deeper than it usually was, and Rachel's heart lost itself in it, grinding her body down unconciously against Kurt's hip, her upper body angled over Kurt's to get at more of his neck, nipping at his skin with abandon. The boy beside her groaned just a bit more, his breath picking up. And as she slid her hand down his chest, past his ribs, past his taught stomach and down to his waist, she could feel his erection straining against the skin-tight pants.

Kurt's mouth fell open with a little "buh" sound on his lips, turning suddenly and pushing Rachel off and pinning her to the bed while his lips approximated the location of hers through half-asleep and inebriated eyes, not fully registering what was happening but feeling tired and giddy with awakened lust.

His body crushed down onto hers, but Rachel couldn't care if it had hurt, couldn't register anything but beautiful lips on hers, soft skin brushing against her face. His lips soon gave way to tongue as he slid his into her mouth, moaning around the kiss. Rachel kissed him just as fervently, her back arching up and arms coming around to encircle his back and draw him closer.

But, as if slowly awakening from a dream, the fog started to lift over Kurt's eyes when he realized where he was and who he was with. "_Rachel_," he said softly, slowly, a whisper against her lips as he pulled back just slightly to see her through his clouded vision. When he said her name, Rachel's whole body _shivered_. Finn couldn't even pack that much lust into an entire lovemaking session.

Apparently, however, that was not Kurt's intent. Still quietly and still close, still only vaguely aware of things around him, he sighs, "No…we can't…" Still, his erection pressed into her side and he was fitted against her, trying to work his way though the muddle of his mind. "How is this even…"

But Rachel seized his lips and kissed him and for a moment, Kurt responded willingly, so willingly, that he nearly forgot again that it's _Rachel_ and not Blaine. Blaine. His _boyfriend_, Blaine. His _brother_ Finn. He broke away from her lips, staring down at Rachel as if forcing his eyes to really _see_ her. "Rachel, no. Finn, Blaine…we can't. _I _can't. I…_physically_ can't…" and in his mind the argument that he's gay and_ it doesn't work like_ that momentarily outweighed the crushing fact that what they were doing was cheating on two boys who both loved them so deeply. Because in Kurt's mind, and perhaps in Rachel's, too, it was _still_ not really happening—it was a dream. And dreams have no logic. Or consequences.

Rachel reached down beneath him and lightly gripped the bulge in Kurt's pants, eliciting a heady sigh and half-moan to rise up through Kurt's chest. "Seems like you can to me," she said, surprising herself with how low and warm and sensual her voice had become. She was nowhere, she was in a dream, a dream where beautiful boys love her unconditionally—or just one boy. The one that's been there even when her fiance hadn't. The one who never abandoned her. The one who _always_ knew the right words to say to cheer her up. The one boy who was funny and sweet and sharp and honest and talented and _sexy_ in a way she never saw before. And he loved her and she loved him but now it was so much more. So much more _real_. "Don't you love me?" she breathed, and when Kurt forced himself to really see her, he saw the tears in her eyes and wondered how long had she been like this.

How long had she been crying? How long had she been needing this kind of validation?

"Of course I love you," Kurt whispered, a look of pain crossing his face. "Rachel, I don't know if I can even—fuck—if I could ever have survived without you. And you…you've always been there for me."

"Even through that elections nonsense and the diva-offs and…every other stupid thing I've ever done?" she laughed through the tears, her voice wavering.

Kurt laughed softly, Rachel felt his chest move in undulations above hers. "You always come through, through. I really admire that and I really do love you…"

"Kurt. Please. I need you." And Rachel was nothing but torn and broken and filled only with thesense of _moment_, the _need_ to be close to someone. The need to be close to _Kurt_. "Please love me like I love you…" she said, and it was a whisper, it was less than a whisper. They were words that she would come to regret the most if she had been able to remember them the next day.

"Okay. Yes. Okay," he said, not internalizing, not fully realizing what he was actually agreeing to. But he closed his eyes again and let the sensation of lips and hands take him away—let his friend have whatever she needed to have in order to be whole again. To feel loved. It was a dream anyway, a bizarre dream that didn't make any sense…and yet…it was happening.

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A couple days ago, Kurt Hummel had hugged his once arch-enemy Rachel Berry, pulling her into a hug and telling her that he loved her. And she had said it back. And as he left, Rachel's gaze had lingered on his retreating form, and something within her broke, and a song started to swell up in her chest. She had to get somewhere—to the auditorium, where she could just belt it and no one would care. And in her mind, while the tears were starting to stream down her face as she walked slowly through the halls, she started to choke out the first verse.

_If anyone asks_  
I'll tell them we both just moved on  
When people all stare  
I'll pretend that I don't hear them talk  
Whenever I see you I'll swallow my pride and bite my tongue  
Pretend I'm okay with it all  
Act like there's nothing wrong

Is it over yet?  
Can I open my eyes?  
Is this as hard as it gets?  
Is this what it feels like to really cry?  
Cry.

If anyone asks  
I'll tell them we just grew apart  
What do I care if they believe me or not  
Whenever I feel your memory is breaking my heart  
I'll pretend I'm okay with it all  
Act like there's nothing wrong

Is it over yet?  
Can I open my eyes?  
Is this as hard as it gets?  
Is this what it feels like to really cry?  
Cry.

I'm talking in circles  
I'm lying, they know it  
Why won't this just all go away?

It didn't make sense, and as much as she wanted it to go away and for these feeling to leave her alone, it wasn't going to happen.

She was in love.

She was in love with Kurt Hummel.

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Kurt could hardly recall which Twilight movie they had even watched last night, let alone the basic points of the plot, when he woke up the next day. The two friends had been curled up together under the covers in Rachel's bed like any other sleepover they'd had before. Although last night it had been a very sad occasion indeed—Rachel's cut-off audition for NYADA, silencing her dream of going to one of New York's best colleges for dramatic arts and possibly rendering her unable to see life in New York City as even an option anymore. And Kurt was not about to let that happen. Rachel needed New York and Broadway like most people needed air.

But this morning…this morning was somehow different. _Oh God_, Kurt thought with an air of panic, _I didn't do my moisturizing routine! I didn't even…I didn't even brush my teeth?! Ugg._

But when he shifted in the bed to get up and use the bathroom to rectify the mistakes of the night, he recognized another huge mistake. A game-changing mistake. He was naked.

_O…Okay. Calm down. No reason to get upset. Obviously there is a rational reason for this._ Kurt thought steadily. _Think, Hummel, think!_

He tried and tried, but all he could come up with was the soft keening of a voice, soft lips on his neck, a body under his, so willing and so demanding and yet so broken. Tears and words that made no sense. _I love yous_ that seemed out-of-place and strange and not at all right.

His heart thundered in his chest as he tried to remain calm. Nothing had happened. Of course, it couldn't have. He was gay. Even if he had a momentary lapse of judgment—_why_, why had he given Rachel alcohol? Why couldn't he have been the designated sleepover buddy? Someone, obviously, should have remained sober that night—nothing could have happened. Rachel was beautiful and sexy, yes, but not in the right way. Not in a way that _counted_.

Rachel squirmed in her sleep and reached out to pull Kurt even closer to where they were entwined together. And Rachel, also, didn't seem to be wearing much at all, given the amount of skin Kurt could feel brushing against his fingers.

_Oh God_, what had he _done_? He needed to stop it. Now. "Rachel…_Rachel_," he tried to say softly, normally, even though his nerves were fried.

"_Mmm_…Kurt," she had half-moaned, half-whispered. Kurt blushed furiously and slipped out of her grasp, flying out of the bed and pulling up a corner of the bedsheets to hide the parts that needed to be covered.

"Rachel!" he said forcefully. And Rachel had blinked back into reality and the look of tension and plain horror on her face was immediate. "Rachel, I—we—what did—"

"Kurt," Rachel had just said again, she had sat up instantly, but her face was shattered, was straining against breaking out into a heartbroken sob. "Kurt, I'm so sorry…" she whispered, so quietly, as if she didn't want Kurt to hear this confession at all.

"What are you _TALKING_ about, Rachel?" Kurt had nearly screamed. "Oh God, did we—did we have sex? Oh _God_, please, don't tell me. Just _don't_ tell me, I don't want to know. Oh God. What the _fuck_ happened?" And he was shaking his head and looking around, the back of his mind trying to sort through other, second priorities—_where are my clothes? Should I comfort her or just leave? Oh God, Blaine. What about Blaine? And…Finn…Jesus._

He felt nauseous, swaying on the spot. Rachel just looked at him through her wide, wet eyes, sheets clenched up over her chest. She said only, "I'm so sorry," again in that low voice.

It seemed that Kurt only knew, only had a vague idea of what had happened. Only received the sensory impulses but none of _them_ together, like Rachel had. Somewhere halfway through the night she had become aware of the magnitude of the offense they had committed, but she locked it away, told herself _tomorrow, I'll worry about it tomorrow. Please, just let me have this now. Let me have him with me, just this once._

But now Kurt was looking at her, open-mouthed and incredulous, with something in his eyes that was dark and uncertain. Rachel thought he looked like his world was ending. And _she_ did that. She made him look like that. And it _hurt_. Kurt cleared his throat and averted his eyes, placed them on the ground. His voice was softer but still high with worry. "Just…yes…tell me. I have to know. I'm…_responsible_…for this."

Rachel didn't want to argue with him. She merely choked back her pride and said, so quietly, trying to not look at him but failing, because at any moment, he'd be gone, and he might never speak to her again. "We…kissed. We…you took your clothes off. And…I did too. You…_touched_ me, but…but that was it. We didn't…we couldn't…Kurt…_please_…I'm so sorry…"

Kurt closed his eyes so tight when he heard. He knew there was more, there had to be more. He couldn't even _imagine_ Rachel touching him, and he knew she must have. He didn't want to think about it. This girl was like his _sister_, would soon be his sister, nearly wed into the family already. And he had done _this_. It was unthinkable.

"I have to go," Kurt said, finding his pants and pulling them on, throwing on his loose pajama t-shirt he never changed into the night before, and grabbing all the other layers from around the floor. It wasn't a graceful exit. It took at least a minute and half after the words left his mouth before he could actually leave the room. Rachel had been watching him the whole time and trying not to cry. It was probably the worst thing Kurt had ever done. Way worse than chatting with Chandler on his iPhone. So much worse. And how could he ever explain it to Blaine? And how could he ever justify this to Finn?

And how would he ever forgive himself for doing this to his best friend?

.

.

.

In the aftermath of that night, several things happened. One, Rachel had not told anyone what had taken place between Kurt and herself, letting the guilt eat at her from the inside-out. No one suspected anything, they still thought she was depressed over NYADA.

Two, Kurt had told Blaine the truth a couple hours after he had left Rachel's house, inviting him over to tell him, texting him first that he _wanted to talk about something_. Blaine's face had been a bundle of nerves when he arrived at the Hudson-Hummel home, nervously awaiting whatever Kurt had to say.

At first he laughed. Because honestly, it was a joke—right? When Kurt kept looking at him, his face so pained and so still, Blaine took in a small breath, and then it was all over. He was sobbing and pushing Kurt away when he tried to touch him and Kurt just stood and crossed his hands over his chest and tried not to break down as his boyfriend sobbed into his hands.

Then Blaine had pushed off from the bed where he was sitting, wobbly with light-headedness, said some forceful words that nearly _destroyed _Kurt to hear. He had betrayed Blaine. The shorter boy had accused him of hurting him worse than Sebastian had with his salt-rock slushie, worse than those boys at the Sadie Hawkins dance all those years ago. How Kurt's actions had _literally_ pained him. He had accused Kurt of not knowing himself, of possibly having feelings for someone else. Of thinking that Blaine wasn't good enough.

And all Kurt wanted to do was hold Blaine, to tell him Rachel didn't matter, to tell him that Blaine was his whole world, his whole universe, and that he would make it up to him every single day for the rest of his life to show him that. He wanted to say that he loved him more than he loved his collection of designer clothes, more than Blaine loved his hair gel, more than glee club, more than all the rest of his friends, more than maybe even his own father. He wanted to tell Blaine how he had saved him from the worst, how he had put his world back together when everything seemed so dark.

And maybe he did say all these things. But it didn't seem like it helped. In the end, Blaine headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Kurt had asked through tears.

"I just need to hit something right now," Blaine said with a ragged voice. "And it's probably best if you weren't around when I do." And he slammed the door, and was gone.

Three, that Monday, when Blaine was giving Finn these confusing looks all throughout Glee, and it was clear that Kurt, Rachel and Blaine were not speaking to one another, and Kurt and Rachel were avoiding Finn more than usual, and that Blaine spent half the day boxing in the gym, Finn decided to approach Blaine to figure out what was going on. Blaine just kept saying to ask Rachel or ask Kurt, that it had nothing to do with him, apparently, as he punched the hanging sack of sand with such unrestrained anger that Finn was almost afraid if he said the wrong thing Blaine would turn and hit him like that, too.

"Dude, are you holding out on me? What's going on? Did they get into a fight on Saturday or what? Rachel didn't tell me—"

"Oh, so she _didn't_ tell you she tried to have _sex_ with my _boyfriend_ after they got _drunk_ and woke up fucking _naked_?" he grunted, slamming his fists into the bag at his emphasized words.

And Finn had found Kurt at his locker and gripped his shoulder perhaps a bit too tightly as he turned him around and asked, "Is it true?"

Kurt had nodded. "_Why?_" Finn asked, his voice trying to be strong but breaking. "Why would you do that, man? You're my brother. I thought I knew you." And nothing had hurt more.

Four, Finn had confronted Rachel, and Rachel had broken down finally and confessed everything, and more.

"I'm so sorry, Finn…" she whispered.

"Why?" he just asked. He needed to know. Kurt didn't have an explanation. Kurt seemed to be almost as hurt about this as he was. Finn needed to hear it from the source.

"Finn…I love you," she said, not truly meeting his eyes. "But I think…" she said, her face caving as she started crying, shutting her eyes to avoid seeing his reaction as she sobbed out the words, "I-I'm in love with your b-brother, too."

And that was something Finn _hadn't_ been expecting.

Five, Finn Hudson had ended his engagement with Rachel Berry.

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.

Blaine sighed at the garbage pail at the side of the cafeteria doors as he shoved off the food he couldn't bear to eat into the trash. A hand fell at his shoulder and he looked up to see _her_, the girl he was trying so hard not to hate these days. "Walk with me?" she said hesitantly, biting her lip.

Blaine nodded once, and left the cafeteria with her, walking the mostly-empty hallways side by side with her in silence.

"Blaine, I—"

"Rachel, to be honest, I don't think I want you to speak to me. Especially if you're just going to apologize. So please, just skip it and tell me what this is _really_ all about."

Blaine had heard it from Finn, of course he had. Finn was now his only confidant, having shared this mutual betrayal. Finn wasn't talking to Kurt or Rachel, even though Finn had confided that Kurt, at least, seemed strangely unaware of Rachel's true feelings.

"I _love_ him, Blaine," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry if that seems…pathetic of me. I would understand if you hate me. I know what I did, or tried to do, was wrong. I won't say I'm sorry if you don't want to hear it. But I'm not sorry about how I feel. I can't help it." She looked up at him pleadingly, and was almost shocked to see that sad look on Blaine's face. It was…empathetic.

"He's always been there for me, you know," Rachel said. "He's so much stronger than I am. I couldn't help falling in love with him." She sighed, tears forming again despite the fact she seemed to have shed too many tears this week already. "And I know it—I know it for a _fact_—that he only loves you. That all he wants…is to be with you. And he would have never…ever…done those things with me if he was in his right mind. Please," Rachel had said, her lip quivering. "I love him, but he's my best friend. And I need to make this right between you both. You love each other. Please. Don't let him go."

She took a step back, then another, then another. "I lost him, maybe forever. But you don't have to, Blaine. You don't have to. Because he loves _you_," she said finally, and turned to walk away.

And Blaine knew she was right.

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.

Dinners at the Hudson-Hummel home had been stressful to say the least. Luckily Burt wasn't around often as he kept jetting back and forth from D.C., but Finn and Kurt were careful to be cordial to each other when Carole was around.

One evening Finn had approached Kurt, knocking on his door lightly before asking to come in to talk.

"Sure…Finn…" Kurt had said, surprised to see his step-brother in front of him. He picked himself up from where he was sprawled across the bed with his AP French text, his phone out beside him, never out of sight.

Finn had walked in, hands shoved in his pockets, avoiding Kurt's gaze for as long as he could. And for a long moment, he didn't say anything at all.

"No calls yet? From Blaine, I mean."

Kurt had tried to smile, but failed. "No. Seems I'm getting my just deserts, huh? Disowned by everyone…"

"Not everyone…" Finn had muttered, staring forcefully at the ground. The silence was heavy for a long minute before Finn spoke again, heaving a heavy sigh and loosening his shoulders as he looked up at Kurt and said, "this is really weird, Kurt. I don't want to _not_ be friends with you anymore." Kurt was silent, waiting for the rest. Finn jerked his head to the side, biting his lip. "I mean, what's wrong with_ me_?" he said in a near whisper. "Am I just…not good enough, or something? Both girls I've been in relationships with have cheated on me…"

"Finn," Kurt said. And it was a statement and a gesture in one. Finn walked over and hugged Kurt and proceeded to cry into his shoulder. And for a long moment Kurt just held him and let him cry it out.

"Rachel and I…we're _done_," he said after he had pulled himself together a bit more, sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed. "I don't know what she wants, but it's obviously not me. Not really, anyway."

"Finn, I—you know already how incredibly sorry I am. I have no words. I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but—"

"No," Finn said forcefully, putting a hand out to stop him. "No, Kurt. We're brothers. That means something to me. This _family_ means something to me. _You_ mean something to me." He smiled at his little older brother. "But my relationships are different. They need to be honest, and Rachel wasn't honest with me about how she felt. And you went to Blaine right away and told him everything. Rachel didn't even have the decency to do that much. And—don't say anything—I know you didn't tell me because it was Rachel's responsibility. You're a good friend like that, Kurt. You know what's right. And…I know you wouldn't have done what you did if you didn't drink so much. You're pretty gay, bro," he said, nearly laughing. "I'm not sure there's much you can do to really change that. Plus, I forgave Puck, _twice_, and he got with Rachel and Quinn while I was dating them. It'd be kinda unfair if I didn't forgive my gay brother for not even doing anything he can remember with a girl."

Kurt was quiet for a moment, a grateful smile on his face. But something had hurt him, so much. He relished Finn's forgiveness, his desire to put the incident behind them. But still. "So why are you not forgiving Rachel?" There was a pause, and then even softer, looking down at his hands, he had said, "Does she not deserve a second chance?"

Finn's mouth pressed into a thin line. "I think she's already had plenty of chances, Kurt. At this point she's got to make up her mind about what she wants."

Finn stood up and began to walk toward the door. "Finn," Kurt called. The taller boy turned around. "Are we not going to talk about the elephant in the room?"

Finn looked right and left across the room, confused.

"I mean," Kurt continued with a sigh, "the fact that Rachel probably…has…_feelings_. For me."

"Did she tell you?"

"What? No. I…don't think so? I don't remember much from…Saturday night…and we haven't really been talking since then…but…I've been piecing it together."

Finn was silent for a moment. "She loves you, Kurt," he said, and shrugged. And his face held so much pain, but this time he held it inside, and walked out the door.

Kurt felt like crying, himself.

_How could this have happened?_

.

.

.

Blaine: _Hey._

Kurt's phone had buzzed, finally. They were in glee club, sitting across the room. Kurt's heart raced.

Kurt: _Hey, yourself._

Kurt: _Wait, does silent treatment not apply to texts?_

Blaine: _Not really…_

Blaine: _I forgive you._

Kurt froze. He hoped against hope this was for real. He didn't want to look at Blaine, didn't want to see the hurt still in his eyes, drawn across his face. But he was filled with renewed hope, now. He looked over at his boyfriend, and Blaine was staring at him longingly, a small, careful smile on his lips.

Blaine: _I've been wanting to say that for days._

Kurt smiled at the text.

Kurt: _Blaine, I am so, so sorry._

Blaine: _I know._

Kurt: _Nothing like that will ever happen again._

Kurt: _Man, woman, dinosaur, Taylor Lautner._

Kurt could hear his boyfriend stifle a giggle at the last text.

Kurt: _Nothing. No one. Only you. Forever._

Blaine: _After class, I'm gonna corner you and I'm gonna kiss you._

Blaine: _B/c you're my boyfriend and that's how I tell you I love you._

Blaine: _So I'm kinda hoping you'll be sweet on me and give me a smooch back._

Blaine: _Okay?_

Kurt danced a little in his chair.

Kurt: _More than okay._

Kurt: _I love you. So much._

Blaine: _I love you too._

Blaine: _Now let's stop. Mr. Schu's catching on._

.

.

.

It was finals week before Kurt and Rachel spoke more than a couple words to each other. They still needed to figure out their New York plans, or even if there _were_ any New York plans.

Rachel had approached him after glee rehearsal. Blaine had looked at her and gave her a knowing smile and kissed Kurt on the cheek, telling him he was going to clean out his locker, and left them alone.

Rachel smiled shyly and approached Kurt, who was trying his best not to look like he felt—incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, the general feeling for having a one-night-stand with your best friend. "I've missed you," Rachel said.

"I've missed you, too."

Rachel looked down, biting her lip, unsure of what to say next.

"Congrats on the NYADA acceptance," Kurt supplied. "I always knew you would make it."

Rachel beamed at him, and it was if—for a moment—everything would be okay. "Thank you, Kurt. You're…very _kind_. I know I'm talented, but that second audition was an act of mercy and pity, and don't you think for a moment I don't know who set it up."

She was right, of course. Kurt had been in contact with NYADA since his acceptance and tried, again and again, to get Carmen Tibideaux to come back and see Rachel perform again. And it worked, after much convincing and much, much pleading. He wasn't even sure how he pulled it off. He just knew that he had to make something right for Rachel. Of course he had to. She was his best friend. Their lives and their dreams were in New York. And Kurt still didn't want to think about going without her.

"Has Finn…" Rachel started to say, then gave up.

"He's still thinking about New York," Kurt finished, knowing exactly what Rachel was going to say.

She nodded solemly, not looking Kurt in the eye. "He's a good guy," she said softly. "He deserves to be happy."

"_You_ make him happy, Rachel," Kurt said.

Rachel shook her head. "No…I _ruin_ people's lives, Kurt. I—I _hurt_ the people I love the most. I almost broke up you and Blaine and…I acted like a complete idiot…"

But Kurt walked straight up to her and put his hands on her shoulders firmly and held her still, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Listen to me, Rachel Berry. You are _not_ an idiot. You're a beautiful, kind and talented girl. And we're going to New York together, and we're going to shine on a Broadway stage and have everything we've worked so hard to get. And Blaine and I are _fine_, and you and I…" Rachel looked at him, something like fear and hope simultaneously burning in her brown eyes, "will always, _always_…be friends."

Rachel nodded. Of course it had to be like this. Of course. But at least she could focus on the one positive thing she wasn't sure she'd be able to have. "We're going to New York?" she asked, confirming.

"Yes," Kurt breathed. "We're going to New York. Together."

Rachel smiled. She could handle this. She could put her feelings aside. She could be just friends with Kurt. Why not? She was only ever friends with him before. Would it be so hard to pretend that she wasn't in love with him?

"I love you, you know," she said, her voice wavering. "I'm sorry about my stupid feelings. I don't want them to ruin everything we have. Because as much as I love you, I love Finn, too. I really do. Not that anything will change…but I want you, at least, to forgive me."

Kurt pulled Rachel into a tight hug. "Talk to him," he sighed. "Like you said, he's a great guy. One of the best, really."

"He is," Rachel agreed, her head across Kurt's shoulder. But her eyes were starting to sting with new tears she tried not to let fall and betray her.

Kurt released her finally. "Now come on," he said with a slight drawl. "Breadstix is calling. Everyone's going. And so are you."

"No, that's alright," Rachel says with a smile. "I need to get home. I've color-coded all my items I'm taking with me to New York, but I have to make some new motivational posters to go up in my dorm room. I know it's not even summer yet but I like to get an early start, you know," she said. And it almost seemed like the old Rachel Berry was back. She turned with a wink, and started to walk to the door.

"Rachel?" She looked at Kurt. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be alright," she said, and left.

_I'll be alright._

_I'll be alright if you're still with me._


End file.
